


Моя америкушка (My Little American)

by Ultraviolet_Skies



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Conflict of Interests, Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 16:52:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11212218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultraviolet_Skies/pseuds/Ultraviolet_Skies
Summary: Throughout all the years, America had had her fair share of lovers. Not that any of them were well kept secrets... until Russia came along. Now America has to juggle between her freedom and responsibility, friends and family, love and hate. Facing immense pressure from the inside and out, she must discover who she can trust and whom she cannot. Will she see it out to the bitter end? Or condemn herself to a life of loneliness, not knowing who or where to turn to...





	Моя америкушка (My Little American)

Most stories have a beginning, middle, and an end. There’s a point to it, usually - a lesson to be gleaned from the whole thing. Unfortunately, not all stories have a true meaning. Sometimes, things happen without reason. It can be hard to distinguish why something occurred at a specific point, or why one might betray the person they claimed to love the most. This story, like a few others, begins at the end. 

 

“Why must you go so soon, девочка…?”

“I’ll miss you too, Braginskiy, you cranky old bastard,” she said, her nose buried into his neck. 

Amelia inhaled. A crisp, smoky tang filled her lungs. She knew she would not smell this man, feel this man, be in his arms, for quite a long time. 

She tried to draw back, get a chance to really look at him. But his arms refused. They drew tighter around her like a viper around its prey. Ivan had her in his sights and God be damned if he let her go. 

“Ivan,” she whined, “c’mon…”

He nuzzled her. Amelia went still. The wind whipped around them, sending Ivan’s scarf flying around behind him. Amelia stared off into the distance. 

Ivan pressed his lips to her head. Her soft blonde hair flattened beneath his touch. His hand moved to the back of her head, petting her as one might caress a precious pet. 

Ivan finally pulled back to take her all in. He realized that, in a few fleeting moments, he would have to let go.

“You will not leave me, Да?”

“... Ivan.”

The man sighed. He crammed his hands into his pockets, rummaging around for something. Withdrawing them, he cupped something tightly in his hands. 

“Что ето, Vanya?”

Ivan tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. He slipped his hands behind her neck. Sunlight bounced off of the golden link he’d bound around her, casting a gentle glow beneath her face. He toyed with the charm at the bottom of the chain, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Dammit, Braginskiy, what is it?!”

Ivan moved his hands back, sliding them down Amelia’s shoulders. She pushed her glasses up and over her forehead. She examined the charm in the light, watching as the sun cast its rays behind it. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Oh, Ivan, it’s beautiful…”

“Yes,” he murmured, “remember it by me.”

She threw her arms around his neck, lips pressing against his ear.

“They could take the world from me, Ivan, and I would never forget you.”

Ivan sighed. The winter wind was already starting to set in. He could feel it nipping, calling, reminding him that what little he had would disappear in a few moments. Ivan didn’t want to think about it.

“Amelia.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just let me have my moment, asshole.”

Ivan cracked a grin. The mushiness of the moment hadn’t quashed her feistiness. He supposed he didn’t have to worry about her taking care of herself. Well, even if he had no reason to, he still would. 

She gave him a few rough pats on the back, and then she was off. Really, it was a quintessential American gesture. Ivan would never understand even half the things his little  
American игрушка did. But it didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy it.

He watched her jog down the airstrip, long blonde hair swinging back and forth. With a great deal of pain, he turned away. He had said his goodbyes far too many times for the pain to be this fresh. But the passage of time didn’t ever make it easier.

~

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

Amelia closed her eyes and listened. The whirl of the overhead fan shot strands of hair across her face like spider web silk. She sputtered, spitting bits of hair out. Her eyes cracked open, glaring at the offending chunks on her face. She was overdue for a trim. She twirled a piece in her hand, imagining a man’s strong, phantom touch in her hair…

But Ivan was gone. Or, rather, she was. She had left, though not exactly by choice. The powers that be had summoned her back to the States. If she had it her way, she would have been with Ivan for as long as possible. To her displeasure, she had to stick it through for the duration of her assignment. At times, she really wished she was normal. Just another citizen, not an eternal being with a mountain of responsibilities and a workload the size of Mount Rushmore. Then again, she would have never met Ivan…

“Hello, ma’am, are you ready to order?”

Amelia scanned over her menu once more.

“Yes, I’ll take the Lumberjack Special, a number three, four, and five. A Coke too- you know what, let’s even it all out with an Oreo milkshake. Oh! Almost forgot, a side of fries with that.”

The waiter’s eyes widened. 

“Uhh…” he deadpanned, “don’t you think that’s a little much, for a little lady like you?”

Her brows furrowed. She shed her jacket, rolling back the sleeves of her white T-shirt.

“Um, do you see these guns? They ain’t gonna feed themselves!”

The server made a face. Dismissively, he rolled his eyes and whipped out a pad. 

“One gargantuan meal… for a gargantuan beast- I mean, lady…”

“Excuse me?! Would you like me to take my business elsewhere, mister?”

The waiter sighed. 

“No, ma’am... it’ll be coming right up.”

Amelia harrumphed. She sank into a pout, crossing her arms. Stupid waiter, she thought, this would have never flied back in my day…

“Amy, you sound so old-fashioned already… and you said I was the old one-”

“Artie!”

Amelia leapt up from the booth, knocking over her coffee in the process. The loud racket caused a few choice glances in their area. The waiter glared.

“Amelia!” 

“Sorry.”

Arthur shot her a disapproving look. She grinned with the sincerity missing in her apology. 

“Big bro, what is up?!” 

She wrapped her arms around him, cracking a few bones in the process. Arthur squirmed, feet dangling off the ground.

“Amy- let… me down…”

Amelia dropped him without a second thought. Arthur stumbled, managing to land on his feet. He winced, rubbing the arm most afflicted by her grip.

“Guess you weren’t kidding when you said you fed your guns…”

“Hey! You’re not calling me fat, are you?”

Arthur’s eyes widened. 

“N-no, of course not! Where in the bloody hell did you even get that from-?!”

Arthur’s backpedaling came too late. Pain bloomed all throughout his skinny bicep. He stumbled back a few steps, clutching at his arm.

“Amy, what the hell?!”

Amelia shrugged. 

“You deserved it, lil’ bro.”

“I’m older than you! I raised you!”

Amelia’s expression soured. Arthur realized what he said, albeit a little too late. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, much like a fish. He sighed.

“C’mon, your boss is waiting for us.”

Amelia brushed past him, making sure to bump his afflicted arm.

“’Suppose I deserved that…”

Suddenly Amelia stormed past him, styrofoam in hand. 

“Sure as hell ain’t leaving my chow behind.”

She began splitting food in equal portions between her mouth and the boxes. Arthur observed with an arched brow. He elected to keep his mouth shut. Amelia put down a thin wad of cash before turning back around.

“Okay, I’m ready to go!” Amelia announced, mouth chock full of food.

Arthur grimaced, but simply led the way out. 

~

“Alright, I’ve gathered you all here, because, as you know, this is our semi-annual meeting. We will discuss various affairs…”

Amelia stared blankly. The G7 summit just wasn’t the same without Russia.

Tensions had started ramping up after the annexation of Crimea. The media went to town with it, smearing Russia as a power hungry wolf. Amelia saw a different side to the story, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Russia and his boss had been banned from the meetings. Amelia’s opinion didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things - what mattered was her citizens’ thoughts and concerns. 

Not to mention, the conflicts in the Middle East had embroiled both America and Russia. Both countries held major stakes in various regions, and neither were doing much  
good. To be frank, Amelia thought, it would have been better for both of us if we had just stayed out of it. 

But their bosses had seen fit to be greedy… to seize control of the vulnerable regions. Some had been created simply by the volition of the European powers… Artie thankfully had managed to get his pecker out of there. Unfortunately, two new meddling powers had stuck their maws in the mess that had been created. 

“America! Pay attention!”

Amelia jumped. She blinked. 

Everyone was looking at her. Usually she was the center of attention, shouting and vying for attention. She always had something to say, whether it was a welcome statement or not. But today, she had been quiet. 

“It’s a little bit freaky, mon cherie,” France said, “but then again, you and I both know I like a good bit of freaky.”

Amelia groaned. 

“You just can’t get over that, can you, frog?”

“Hey, you never call me that!”

Amelia just sank lower into her chair. She didn’t even want to think about that time period - running away from Artie and into someone else’s open arms...

“Don’t forget what we’ve done for each other, love,” France whispered, licking his lips. 

Amelia sighed. She could only thank God that Russia wasn’t there. 

“Sorry, guys, I’ve had a lot on my mind. Can we just get on with it, please?”

A few other countries murmured in agreement. But the harmony between them was short lived. Soon enough, bickering filled the room. 

“Ay, why does it always have to be about you guys? So Eurocentric, why not give us a little credit?”  
“Oh pipe down, China, we’re trying to conduct a business meeting! Besides, you’re not even supposed to be here-”  
“When can we abolish those sanctions on toys, I’ve been awful lonely, no-”

Amelia stood up, her chair crashing back into the wall.

“Everyone, shut the fuck up!”

The chatter stopped all at once. 

“I’m sick and tired of all your bullshit! We can never get along. Someone always gets offended, scraps some treaty, fucks up diplomacy that was barely there in the first place… this… this is why Russia never should have been banned!”

The silence in the room was heavier than the weight of the world on Atlas’ shoulders. France cast her a stunned look.

“R-russie?”  
“Bissau? Mein Gott, what’s gotten into your head, Amerika?”

Germany looked at her with surprise, not trying in the slightest to conceal his disgust. Amelia felt her insides recoil. 

“I-I mean, he’s just-”  
“Geez, Ames, you of all people…”

She whirled to face Britain.

“Shut the hell up, Arthur! You’re one to talk!”

Amelia felt tears burning at the corner of her eye. She sniffled, standing up and slinging her backpack over her shoulder. 

“Jones, this meeting isn’t over-”  
“I don’t give a fuck, I need some time. Don’t call me.”

She stormed out, shoving France out of the way when he tried to grab her. 

“Oi, shouldn’t someone go after her?”

France cast a worried glance at his retreating friend. He sent a questioning look at Arthur. He shook his head. France pursed his lips. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“Well then, let’s just get on with it, you gits!”

And the chaos began again.

~

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, this is just the beginning of a fun little ditty of a story. I hope someone out there enjoys reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. спасибо и до свидачия (thanks and farewell)


End file.
